


Three Day Pass

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pre-Canon, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-13
Updated: 2008-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wintergreen has finagled a 3-day pass to Japan for himself and his very promising young friend. Slade gets a lot of new experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Day Pass

Wintergreen kept his amusement at Slade to himself. The younger soldier hadn't yet _been_ to Japan, but had been smart enough not to listen to the other soldiers bragging, and want to see for himself. It had taken a fair amount of favor trading to get the sergeant free for a leave at the same time he had a pass. 

Slade hadn't been adverse to the idea, though it had made him wonder, just what the older soldier saw in him to make him want to spend the leave time they got so rarely with him. 

"Better than Seoul." Slade's comment as they came off the plane earlier summed it up well. The area open to military men on leave was about as appealing as a three mile hike... but at least here, it wasn't through minefields and shelling. He was definitely enjoying the change from both of those, though he wasn't entirely sure what he thought of this country yet. 

"Nice to be away from the noise for a bit," Wintergreen said. They had enjoyed a decent meal, at least, and the promises of an evening's entertainment among women not trying to earn a living in a war torn country was promising. At least it was, until the Brit noted how frugal Slade was being with his money. He wondered at that, resetting, again, just how old the boy must be in his mind, despite an improper look he'd taken at official papers. "Keeping your wallet close, good idea...except I'd think you could truthfully use the slightly more expensive distractions. A soldier can't keep his edge, if his sword's left to get rusty."

Slade's low chuckle was appreciative of the advice. He'd learned already to keep an ear on what Wintergreen had to say, and most of the time, he'd agreed with the older man. "Are you always so colorful with what you say?"

Wintergreen harrumphed at that, but he did lift his shoulders in a shrug. "I find words as useful as strong blows, m'boy."

"Hmm." Slade had mostly stopped protesting the use of that phrase, when he realized it wasn't meant as an insult. 

Wintergreen could see Slade adding that to his mental files. The boy was sharp as a whip... and was already waiting for Wintergreen to prove out to be someone with an agenda. That was the one thing Wintergreen was not about to admit to, that he wanted to stay close to this gifted boy. He could sense a great man in the making, a soldier who would be far above the rest.

Knowing that Slade was intent on saving his money //mother, siblings at home maybe? Far too young to be a wife...no ring...//, Wintergreen turned their path to less carnal intents, showing the city to his young friend. 

Slade had enough poise not to react as strongly as he sometimes wanted to, to the strangeness of the sights and smells and... just the way of life in this country, the painted faces of the women and the brilliant clothing--but much of it fascinated him, too. The two soldiers found plenty of distractions, and eventually fell in with a small party at a tea house. 

There, Wintergreen found it interesting to watch Slade with the young women looking to part him from his money. He had an easy charm that made the women think he was a mark... until it came time to put up or shut up, and then the women often forgot they were there for profit. Wintergreen couldn't blame them; Slade wasn't even fully grown into that frame yet, //when he does, the boy will dwarf me...// and he was still just... beautiful. Not that Slade wasn't masculine, Wintergreen told himself. But the sheer aesthetics of the American didn't fall in the scope of 'handsome'.

By the night's end, Slade was ready to just go back to the room they had secured earlier in the day, leaving Wintergreen to part from the pretty thing he had been keeping time with. He admired the boy's restraint on one level... most of the bloody American soldiers in this fracas couldn't keep their hands to themselves on leave, let alone resist spending every dime they had. On the other... ah, well. Wintergreen smiled. There'd be plenty of other leaves, unaccompanied by frugal young men.

At their room, watching Slade make for the shower, Wintergreen thought about just what it was he could see that marked Slade out. He knew there was something more than just his own perceptions, as Slade's superiors, despite that incident over the village, consistently depended on Slade to get the job done. All Wintergreen knew for sure was that he had no intent on losing this friend he had made without seeing it all play out.

`~`~`~`~`

Wintergreen woke first. Long habit of trying to be first up, to have peace to himself before the rowdies got started, or years prior to that, having to find time to avoid both mother and sisters for time to himself had drilled that into him.

He looked toward his sleeping companion on the other narrow bed, and had to smile. Slade slept with the abandon of the young, despite the age that gleamed out at Wintergreen most of the time. He had sprawled on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and head, the other flung carelessly over the edge of the bed. The sheet lay across his midriff and most of a leg, completely disarrayed from the tosses and turns of the night.

Wintergreen was fairly sure he'd never seen such a sight in all his life, and it made the morning rising a bit more uncomfortable than usual. There was much to be said for a pretty woman, but the sculpted view he had now reminded Wintergreen of far too many Greek tales from his classical reading. He managed to make it out of bed, and past the sleeping man, to reach the small bathroom in silence. The faint squeak of a hinge made Slade stir slightly, but with the door shut, Wintergreen could handle matters in enough silence to not dismay the American.

`~`~`~`~`

"Second day, and seeing as tomorrow is catching that flight back...what would you like to do today?" Wintergreen queried after a simple breakfast.

Slade shrugged slightly, not entirely sure. He wasn't familiar enough with this country to be certain what there was to do, and he wasn't inclined to spending his money lightly--Wintergreen had twitted him over it yesterday, but saving it came easier to him than spending did. He never knew when a real need would come up. "You're more familiar with the area... what would you suggest? Unless there's a theater around that would have something different--and that I could still understand?" 

"I've no doubt, m'boy, that you'd understand more than the language might normally allow for," Wintergreen said. "But yes... theater sounds good." Wintergreen debated between a play and an honest reel to reel. He finally opted for the second, and dragged his friend to the nearest service theater to see a movie that might only be two years old, instead of the usual five for the ones in Korea.

Slade smiled and pulled out enough cash to cover his part of that, and settled into one of the theater seats next to Wintergreen. The older man had had his respect since he'd stepped in to save him, but there were a lot of moments he wasn't entirely sure why the older soldier had taken quite so much interest. Having someone that he could actually count as a friend, even if just for the time, was a good thing, though. He shook his head, and told himself to just watch the film. 

"That Cary Grant does know how to pull a laugh out," Wintergreen commented later, once they were leaving. "Not my usual fare, but a good laugh, a couple of pretty faces to gawk at..."

Slade was still laughing softly at the film as they walked out, and nodded. "That was a good one, and you're right, he does, almost all the time." 

"Call it lunch, and then visit the markets? Surely you've a girl to buy some trinket for." //There, get it out of him and know...// Wintergreen had enjoyed the leisurely morning, and was in no haste to see it end with just a movie.

"Frannie'd knock my head in if I sent her something, and other than her... not really. But I wouldn't mind looking, anyway. I'm too far away for her to catch that easily..." A smile that knew made him look young enough to still be playing ball in a park back home tried to slide across his face despite his best attempt to block it. 

Wintergreen set the age to a very decisive late sixteen and wondered if America were that short on stout men to carry war's burden. "Frannie, ehh?" They headed toward the markets, with Wintergreen putting his mother in mind for something appropriate. 

"My stepmother," Slade admitted with a slight shrug. "My father brought her home from Germany with him." His eyes darkened somewhat at that, but the thought of Frannie's face if he sent her some foreign trinket brightened him quickly enough. 

Wintergreen did not press on that nerve. He didn't much care to think of Germany, after all, for his own fatherly reasons. "We'll find her some bauble she won't fuss too much over, while I find something for at least my mother." 

"All right." Slade agreed with that more than readily enough. If he could work that into the letter, she might not be quite as annoyed with him as she would be otherwise. And Wade was old enough that he wasn't about to send him anything. 

`~`~`~`~`~

A quick trip to the markets had taken up a few hours of the day, with one thing leading to another in distracting them. Food had become a pressing matter when Slade's stomach betrayed its hunger, loudly, at one point, and they wound up in a little place near their rented room to eat. 

"No matter how much I travel for His...no, Her, I seem to recall, Majesty, I do try the native cuisine...often with surprise at finding something worth remembering," Wintergreen said. 

"Oh? I... haven't been impressed at most of what I've tried so far," Slade admitted. He had to admit that he wasn't that adventurous about it, though, and now was probably the better time to try it. "It's sure a long way from home." He heard his voice slide towards the accent he'd been trying to get rid of for a while. 

The older man noted it, putting one more piece into his map of this gifted boy with a conscience. "Isn't it though?" He thought of his own slip away from Britain, wondered how his uncle was doing with that Zionist movement, how his sisters were settling into life in their marriages. Then he pushed it firmly away, knowing his life... their better welfares... depended on him being here. Away from long memories of those who detested the Sympathizers from the last war.

"Yes," Slade nodded, looking around again. "Though... more that it's fish hanging, instead of meat or birds, everywhere than anything else, if I just think about late fall..." 

"Hmm, yes, I could see that." Wintergreen considered the rustic lifestyle an interesting possibility at best. He was rather fond of creature comforts when he could get them.

Slade tipped his head to the side a little, looking at him. "I didn't think there was a lot of real hunting still done over there on your side of the ocean...?" 

"I have this love of the printed word," Wintergreen admitted, somewhat diffidently. He was accustomed to being ridiculed for it, especially by young men.

Slade sat forward a little, looking more interested than anything else. "Sometimes that's the only way to find something interesting. Frannie was always after me to read... it caught on some." 

Wintergreen looked at Slade sharply. "If I'd known, m'boy, I'd have dragged you into this quaint little bookshop I found my last pass through here."

"The day's not over yet..." Slade said, looking down at the food as it was brought to them, and gave the chopsticks an irritated look--he was still a long way from picking up the trick to them. 

"Here." Wintergreen showed him the better way to hold the stabilizing stick, and the motion to use for the moving one. "You've good hands, you'll get the knack of it."

Slade watched intently, and shifted his hand to copy the motion, then nodded. "That does work better. Thank you." 

"Anytime." Wintergreen chuckled softly. "I would have been a book keeper, back at home...but numbers of that sort are too easy to run in my sleep. It's words that make me fascinated, and I'll read nearly any book. Philosophy and history are mainstays, but I don't turn aside good fiction. Who knows, one day I may spin the tales I've seen and lived through into something of the sort."

"I like a lot of the fiction I found, but Frannie pushed me to history, science... military writings, when she realized where I was headed. Numbers... you're right. Numbers are easy." 

"I'll loan you a book you might enjoy," Wintergreen said. "Unless you've already read Sun Tzu."

"References, yes, the actual book, no, not yet."

"Then it's yours, when we make camp tomorrow night." Wintergreen had the distinct impression this young man would be able to truly learn from it in ways that he, a moderately skilled soldier, did not fully grasp.

//Why?// The curious question flicked past Slade's eyes, but he nodded his thanks, instead. "I'd like that. I think Frannie had a copy in German, but that didn't do me a lot of good." He shrugged a shoulder, dismissing that, and turned his attention to the sticks in his hand again. 

"Don't read German? I try not to. Awful headache of a language." Wintergreen shrugged. "I do hope that shop is open again." He applied himself more swiftly to his food in anticipation. If he couldn't indulge the vice of women for lack of his friend's money, nor in the other vice he wished toward, at least he could have books this trip.

"Well, we'll go see--and it can't be the only one in the area, can it?" Seeing that eagerness, it didn't bother Slade at all to pick up his own pace and finish the meal--whatever it was that Wintergreen had ordered for them, it wasn't bad at all. 

"Hard to find English, even if you chaps have been squatting here a few years now," Wintergreen told him. "But if it's not...always future trips. I'll show you, and if you come back here, you'll know."

It took a moment for Slade's hackles to go down at that choice of word, but the other man hadn't meant it in insult. "All right. So, lead the way, Wintergreen."

`~`~`~`~` 

The shop had been open, and had even had a copy of the very book in question from earlier. As it was a smaller copy than Wintergreen's edition, despite being more annotated, he had purchased it and given it to Slade, despite protests, for having indulged a Brit and his love of books. 

Then they were back in the room, and Wintergreen was devouring a new book on Eastern philosophy, much of which was causing him to make thoughtful or amused noises.

Slade was deep in his own new... gift. He'd rather have paid for it on his own, but Wintergreen had managed to argue him out of that. Wintergreen's voice pulled him up out of it once or twice, then the third, he asked, "What is it?" 

"Hmm? Ehh? Oh, sorry, my boy." Wintergreen flashed him a smile. "Do tend to get carried away about things that catch my eye." He stifled down then, keeping his noises to himself.

"It's all right," Slade shrugged slightly, and went back to his book... and eventually got up, digging for a pen and paper in his gear to start writing down notes. 

Wintergreen took note of the motion, watching him move across the floor and back, before giving into the call of his book over the fruitless watching of the American. He only stopped when he recalled the early flight they'd be on the next day. 

"Should turn in, I think..."

Slade barely heard him, pen flicking over the page of note-paper he was using to keep track of what he was thinking. This... he knew, now, exactly why Frannie had meant to find it for him. Why it was referenced in so many other things. 

Seeing him so absorbed in the reading, Wintergreen just grew quiet, watching. He had made a living off his ability to observe, to report the minute details that made all the difference in stopping or starting affairs of the Crown. Using those skills now to study this boy, this born-soldier... Wintergreen felt the prickle of Fate, and calmly discarded it. Yes, Slade had the makings of greatness, but he still needed to be tempered... if he could survive this hell-hole of Chinese and Korean manufacture they were serving in.

Slade paused, glancing up, the pen's tip against his lips. "How far is a 'li', do you know? Or can I just shove it into miles and have a close enough guess?" 

"With today's transport systems, miles should do the trick." Wintergreen did look slightly discomfited at being caught watching him.

Slade nodded, "Long way from chariots, in any case... I'm not sure I agree with some of his numbers, either, but the concepts are... well. Right now, they sound simple, but there's so much _here_... You said something, earlier.. what was it?"

"That it is late, and we fly early. I don't sleep so well hopping the pond." Wintergreen's voice was ... not softer, but he knew it was the quieter tone of a man at peace, rather than a soldierly comrade. 

"I guess it has gotten late, and I can work on this on the way over..." Slade stretched up enough to put both book and notes on the stand between the beds, and moved to clean up for bed.

Wintergreen watched that stretch, could not help but admire the wiry grace already there. He waited until after Slade had come back and sprawled on his bed, then went to clean up himself. The sight of Slade in nothing but a pair of skivvies was a good one to fall asleep to, he decided.

`~`~`~`~`

The low sound of a man fighting down sounds of...pain? remorse?... drew Wintergreen from his light slumber. He turned over, peering at the source of the sounds, to find his restless companion in dire need of rescue from the sheet tangling his legs and one arm. He rose, shifting to where he could catch the inevitable attempt at a strike, and reached out with his other hand to grip Slade's shoulder.

"Slade...Wilson!" he called softly with the touch.

The strike came, whipped up and back with all the strength of the nightmare behind it, but the voice didn't belong in this nightmare, and that made him blunt some of the force. 

"Easy, m'boy." With his hand gently around that wrist, he eased Slade' arm down and sat on the edge of the bed. "You've had a bad run of this night, I believe."

Slade tried to pull himself back into his own mind and the present, Wintergreen's voice soft in his ears, instead of the crack of gunfire and the scream of the shells... He moved enough to look up at the older man, breath still coming fast, more than half lost in the nightmare still. 

Wintergreen nodded at him. "Good...come back to me, m'boy, from whatever hell it reminded you of." He could not keep himself from running a light hand over those shoulders, feeling the tension in them. 

It was long, long moments before Slade could speak to him, even with the touch. 

"I... I'm here... I think..." he shifted into the gentle touch, letting it pull him away from the feeling of the weapons in his hands, the sound of the battlefield... At feeling Slade actually move to have the touch more closely, Wintergreen brought both hands to bear on those corded muscles.

"Tsk. Carry this much tension too long, you'll be tearing muscles when you go to move too fast," he said, fingers manipulating muscles expertly.

"Hm?" Slade shifted to lay down more, letting the older man work at the knots in his shoulders. This was a rare luxury, and one he wasn't going to pass up. "I... think I was trying to be quiet."

"You're still young enough to be growing into that frame you carry so well. Wind up like a top, and those knots will be permanent." For effect, he worked at one muscle intently to soothe it to a fully relaxed state.

The strength of the pressure made him gasp, but he pressed up into it after a few moments. "That... sounds a little like 'your face will freeze that way'..." He didn't want to think about the nightmare he'd been having, and it was easier to distract himself with the comment than pay so much attention to the touch.

"A bit." Wintergreen continued his ministrations. "First time I saw combat...honest in the open combat, I was sick to my stomach as soon as I cleared the AO. Night terrors--those came from the one time I gave intel back that led to a man being killed right in front of me...to shut him up."

"...yes. I... wouldn't have enlisted if I didn't believe we were here for the right reasons... but there's nothing _right_ in the deaths of the women and children that can't escape, don't even know they should until it's too late..." his hand curled to a fist at his side. 

"You are right there. But every war has its victims, m'boy. Prices paid and all that trite nonsense. It's coming to terms with the fact you are or are not a soldier, learning to press on if you are, and still being able to feel just that about those victims...that's the measure of it." He gave an affirming squeeze. "Once you make your choice, then you find the ways to cope, the ways to take the pain out of your soul, so it does not cripple your body when you need to be sharp."

"This is what I am, Wintergreen. I'm too good at this not to." His voice was flat, calm, and certain of it. 

"I'm fairly aware that you are just that good, and that this is what you were born to be, seemingly. But each man chooses his own fate." Wintergreen shifted, uncomfortable giving the massage from such a sideways angle. "The question, then, becomes just how do you cope with it? How do you beat Morpheus in his own realm from defeating your body in this one?"

"I... don't know. ..you've been doing this longer.. what do you do?" He wanted the advice, from this man, where he would normally ignore it...

"Some nights...I choose not to sleep. Not too often, but enough to actually weary myself." The older soldier considered the question, and his answer, carefully. "I take my passes and find suitable company to remind me of humanity in the most basic way possible. Or..." He paused, to let that sink in.

Slade considered that, twisting around to look at him--some nights, yes, he might need not to sleep; and he wasn't naive enough not to recognize what the older man meant. He'd seen enough of the men come back late and... sated, after all. The thought had some promise, but he wasn't sure it struck right. The way Wintergreen trailed off made him look harder, "Or?"

"Or, when passes are too far apart, I find a comrade who shares the need," Wintergreen admitted, prepared to move if needed, but confident he had read at least an open enough mind to question rather than condemn in this boy.

Slade ran that admission through his mind a couple of times before it truly processed, and he felt his eyes widen a little as he thought about that idea. He'd seen enough in the last few months to know that _did_ happen between men, despite all regs against it--and neither his father nor Frannie had really been the church-going kind, but... several very vulgar words flicked through his mind about those practices, and those that indulged in them. None of them, though, seemed to really fit the man that had saved him from that beating by dishing one out, and was a damnably good fighter on top of it. 

"There are...precedents, throughout history." Wintergreen had watched intently, letting it process, before he let his strong hands resume the massage. "Far better than to use the unfortunates caught up in the battle's aftermath."

Slade let both of those thoughts settle, still braced up to look at him, as he remembered Frannie's blunt voice explaining a gap in the texts for part of his classwork on the Iliad and some of the other older texts, and couldn't help a slow nod at the last words. The Korean girls that followed the army always looked so hopeless, almost broken... He knew very well what most people thought of that... but then, most people were idiots, too. 

"I... can see that. But, you pretty obviously like women...?" Slade cocked his head to the side. 

"Like might be too light a word," Wintergreen chuckled. "I enjoy my creature comforts, and a good woman is high on that list to enjoy." He shook his head, a faint smile still at his lips. "Doesn't change the fact that there is an appeal in the other side of things, or that I refuse to take advantage of a woman trying to survive the destruction I am part of." He favored his friend with a long look. "You're a damn good soldier, Slade. Honor and integrity both." Wintergreen decided bluntness might be best now. "But I'd be lying if I denied finding you bloody well attractive for more than just your mind and skills."

Slade blinked at that, more than half shocked, and shook his head. Yeah, girls had practically fawned over him since he'd gotten most of his height, but that was nothing... "You're so... casual about that, when..." //when it could so easily get you dismissed, or worse...// "Are the regs that different, on your side?" 

"Not in the damn least," Wintergreen said, with a touch of irritation. "There are ways of knowing...and then sometimes, you take a gamble." The older soldier ran a light touch along the spine of this too-tempting man. "Very confidential, Slade... I despise hearing rumors."

Slade bristled at the thought, eyes snapping at the implication as he looked up at him. "As though I'd say a word. You've been damn good to me." 

Wintergreen stroked at Slade's shoulders soothingly. "Sorry, m'boy...I meant discretion on your behalf, not mine...None would ever know that we discussed this, or anything else."

Slade relaxed at that, letting the touch and the words that meant Wintergreen had meant it more to protect him than to warn him off speaking settle his temper down. "My mistake, Wintergreen. All right." He thought for a few minutes, and looked up at him again, "Is that why you've stayed so close?" He didn't like the thought, or even asking the question, but now that he'd thought it... he had to know, or it would prey at him too much. 

Wintergreens dry chuckle answered him. "No, m'boy. I stay close because you fascinate me...I've never met a man more suited to being a soldier in all my life. The intent of this trip was to get you to relax, but I honestly expected it to be a friendly little Nippon girl to do the relaxing."

Slade thought about it for a minute or two, then nodded and laid back down, dropping his forehead against the back of his hands to let Wintergreen get at the knots he'd put in his shoulders, bracing backwards like that. He appreciated the honestly, much as it shocked him.

Wintergreen shifted again, and applied himself to working on the shoulders, his hands slowly moving down Slade's back. He thought about all the classical examples he knew, but felt the moment was more for letting Slade think, not pressing his point on the matter. He did not keep his hands nearly in check, though, as they caressed in the midst of massaging that mostly unmarked skin.

Slade lay still, thinking about the open honesty about something he would never have expected, about the idea that the man touching him, who he'd watched charm every woman and girl they'd met in the last two days had a... preference? for something he'd never really considered outside of what Frannie'd said and the barracks jokes and insults... and it didn't make a lot of sense. But then, neither did the fact that the strong, calloused hands working at his shoulders and back felt... good. He puzzled at that, pressing his shoulders back into the touch, enjoying the contact. He was still only half sure what he thought, but as Wintergreen's thumbs forced a knot over his ribs out, he didn't think to bite back the low moan. 

The moan shot straight through the Brit, and made him bite at the inside of his mouth to control the response. He gave up on stopping further contact though, and moved to sit astride Slade's hips, dramatically changing the pressure he was able to bring to bear as he kept the steady massage, hands trailing down to the lower back.

Slade tensed for a long moment at the movement he hadn't seen, at the weight over his back and legs, but... the way that changed Wintergreen's hands felt too good to argue with. 

"You've already seen more of life than men with a decade more years," Wintergreen commented softly. "Shows in the way you carry yourself. Not just the war...all of it." He kept his voice neutral, even as he found that one knot in the lower back that would unlock the rest of Slade's tension.

Slade shrugged his shoulders.. and gasped as the strong, steady pressure made things all through his back ease and relax. "Oh..." He put his mind back on Wintergreen's words, and answered, "I guess I grew up fast." 

"Know about that one," Wintergreen said in a low voice. "Was about your age when I joined MI-5." 

"MI... military intelligence, right?" 

"Yes." Wintergreen shifted from active massage to light caresses along the more sensitive muscles.

"How'd you wind up here?" Slade asked, trying not to think about the fact that those hands sliding over his skin felt better than Becky Anne's had (a lifetime ago) before he'd enlisted and shipped out here.

"Never be smarter than your boss." Wintergreen laughed softly. "Or at least, not where he knows it."

Slade laughed at that, shaking his head, and pressed back into the touch before he knew exactly what he was doing. That was enough to slip a little more of the Brit's control, letting his weight come more fully down on Slade's hips, leaning forward so that his words could be softer, closer to Slade's ear.

"It's as true as the fact I really want to show you just what I could do to make you feel far more pleasant right now," he said, his tones inviting and his words the most direct he wished to be with Slade. //Better to have it out, open now, let the boy say no, and have it behind us. And if he doesn't...//

Slade shuddered at the weight, the voice in his ear, lower and rough in that still-foreign accent, and he felt himself move back against Wintergreen's body while his brain was still trying to figure out what he thought of that, of the way his body was reacting. 

The move back made Wintergreen moan, a very low sound of pleasure, before shifting again, bringing his lips to the smooth shoulder he'd been touching earlier.

"No one needs to know," he reminded, fully aware that Slade had to feel the blatant proof of his arousal now.

Slade lay still, trying to figure out if that pressure against his backside felt good, bad, or just shocking... but there was no confusion about the fact that the warm skin just barely away from his definitely felt good... And he was curious, he had to admit. It would hardly be the first time he'd thought what the Army was willing to do--or not do--was more than a little stupid, and he shifted back a little, testing. "I..."

Wintergreen had to catch his breath, before he kissed along Slade's ear lightly. "Let me show you," the older man said in a voice gone deep and rougher with want. He drew Slade's hips up just a little, slipping a hand along one side and under, just caressing, but steadily moving toward a goal.

Slade twisted against/into that touch, the hand sliding along the line of his hip at the edge of the briefs, and bit his lip instead of making noise at the feeling. He'd done this, once or twice, back behind Becky's father's barn, but her small hand had felt nothing like his strong one... He still wasn't, completely, sure about the weight over his back, but he shifted his head into the touch along his ear, jumping a little at the feel of the mustache along sensitive skin.

Wintergreen wanted to feel his friend's bare skin, but also knew the hesitation he was feeling shouldn't be spooked. Much as he would be patient with a new colt to break for a bridle, the Brit was going slow now, hand sliding along the outside of the briefs, until he could firmly close his hand around Slade's cock through the thin fabric.

Slade shuddered again, hips moving almost without his will into that sure touch, the feel of that solid pressure all around him so different from even his own hand... but... definitely different in a good way. It felt... almost too good, and he pressed his shoulders back against Wintergreen's body to feel him better. 

"Yes, m'boy. That's it." Wintergreen's breath was catching every time Slade shifted, until he just started moving in time with his strokes along that cloth covered shaft. He rocked against Slade's firm backside, and slipped his hand inside the skivvies when he noted the moist spot building at the tip of Slade's hard-on. His calloused hand wrapped around softer skin, thumb stroking along the head for extra sensation.

Slade had twisted, a little uneasy at that first solid rock against his back; hard, firm pressure tucked against him quite that intimately, but... every stroke of his hand made that less of a concern, and more just another sensation-- He bit hard at his lip at that first slide of Wintergreen's hand against his skin, wrapped that close, and the stroke over his tip made him whimper low in his throat despite his best attempt to be quiet. It felt... god. It felt too good. 

"My boy." The way it was said promised security, warmth, friendship...and someone to understand him when he stood out from all the rest. Wintergreen gently nipped at the broad shoulder, just as he added a slight twist to his stroke along Slade's shaft. "I want you to let go, for me..."

"Not... a boy," Slade protested, but the nip made him buck, twist into Wintergreen's hand, the arm wrapped so close around his waist, tension building so fast at the feel of this, at the way it made his heart race and breath catch... and the voice in his ear made him shudder all the way down into his chest. He twisted a hand back, fast, wrapping it around Wintergreen's back, hip, just to hold on as his body took over, white-heat slamming through his body as the change in the touch made him break.

Wintergreen felt the straining, bucking motions, the wet-heat spilling over his hand, and nearly followed his friend into release, holding back only for the hope of feeling more than just cloth against his aching cock. "No, Slade, you're no boy out there..." His words were almost a purr against Slade's ear, as he held onto the younger man, slowly shifting them to their sides without ever letting go. 

Slade shuddered as he settled back against Wintergreen's solid body, panting from the shock of intensity of that release and his own surprise at it, body loose-limbed and almost bonelessly lax. The older man held him, willing his body to rest, to wait. If Slade showed no interest in a return of favor, he was more than able to finish this himself.

"Good, yes?" he asked in a whisper across the younger man's ear.

"I... Yes. That... was good." Too far different to be called 'better' than what he'd had with girls, but... good. He pressed back into the warm body behind him, and a trace of uncertainty ran through his mind. It wasn't fair, for him to have had that kind of release, and leave Wintergreen as... tense and on edge as he felt, but... He wasn't all that sure he knew what he was doing well enough--but then, it couldn't be that different from his own hand and body... He twisted, trying to roll down onto his other side, to look at him.

Wintergreen met his eyes and read the hesitation, saw the peace being broken by the debate within. "There's no need, m'boy, if you do not wish," he said with a gruffness. He ran a hand up and behind Slade's neck, squeezing there before dipping forward to lightly brush his lips against Slade's. 

Slade jumped at the feeling of the full mustache against his skin, wildly different, but didn't pull away. "Yes, there is," he said quietly, and brought his hand up to lay against the solid muscle over Wintergreen's chest, slowly running it lower. An echo of Wintergreen's words played in his mind, and he looked up into green eyes and said softly, "Show me."

The older man's eyes closed for a moment, before they opened to show a deep satisfaction. "Just touch...and I'll show you what pleases me," he rumbled. He ran his fingers up into that short, short hair, his other hand lying under Slade's waist as he let the younger man choose how to handle him.

Slade watched Wintergreen's face as he let his hand run down his chest, over hard lines of muscle nothing like any girl he'd been with, and worked his fingers in under the waistband of the briefs, following the line of a hip despite the oddness of the angle. The older man nodded, rolling to his back on the narrow bed, and brought his hands down to shove the briefs away. Then, he was able to guide Slade's questing hand, bringing it to his cock with a low moan of need.

Slade couldn't help but look down, study the way it looked to have his hand wrapped there, mentally compare the length in his hand to his own--not so much difference as to worry him, especially with as much older as Wintergreen was. This felt so different, hand on someone else... He wrapped his fingers more comfortably, and rocked his hand slowly, testing. 

"That's it, m'boy," Wintergreen encouraged. He pushed into the touch, hips thrusting lightly, needing the release but savoring the build-up of tension once more.

Slade braced up on his other arm a little more, getting a little better leverage as he watched Wintergreen's face, his body, and let his pace quicken, tried tightening his fingers a little more. Wintergreen's eyes were half closed as he arched up, hips straining to keep that friction just right.

"Yes...oh, yes Slade!" He was right there, so wound up from earlier, and the very inexperience of Slade's touch pushing him even closer to the edge. He wrapped one arm around Slade's shoulders, the other covering Slade's hand, and then gave himself to pleasure, biting down the hoarse cry of completion.

Slade blinked in half-shock but tightened his hand under Wintergreen's, pressing back into the hold as pleasure took his friend over, made him buck hard... The Brit gasped as the fog of release slowly cleared, a slow, lazy smile lighting his face as he looked at Slade. "Mmm, yes...did the trick." There was a hint of playful teasing in his voice. "Damn shame it makes such a mess..." he griped next, even as he twisted to his side enough to let Slade relax back down beside him for the moment.

Slade just nodded, agreeing with that as he cleaned his hand off against a corner of the sheet. With Slade quiet and trying to catch his own wind back completely, Wintergreen studied the young man's face, examining if this was a once off event, or if there might be room in Slade's open mind for the idea of a classical camaraderie of warriors.

Slade felt that intent look and glanced up, cocking his head to the side a little, curious... then the fact that he was damned uncomfortable processed through his mind and he twisted enough to squirm out of the wet briefs, not trying to get out of Wintergreen's hold. That answered Wintergreen's question nicely, and he shifted to get fully out of his own, using the things to wipe himself as clean as he could for now.

"I'll be there for you, whenever you need it, m'boy, as long as the units stay close," he said with a slight yawn behind the words. "Excuse me, Slade..." He petted at Slade's hair briefly.

Slade shrugged a shoulder casually, not concerned about the yawn... his own eyes were still trying to fall shut on their own from earlier. 

"Not the chattiest thing ever, but you are a gorgeous one," Wintergreen chuckled, moving to let Slade have his bed back to himself.

Slade barely managed to fight down the instinct to catch his arm, shaking his head in the same disbelief as earlier. "I talk when there's something to say, Wintergreen." 

Wintergreen paused, looking down at him seriously. "And I will listen."


End file.
